


A Songbirds Wings

by Milaley



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Feral Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt/Comfort, Immortal Jaskier | Dandelion, M/M, Music, Mutual Pining, Non-Human Jaskier | Dandelion, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Protective Jaskier | Dandelion, Self-Discovery, Slow Burn, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Soft Jaskier | Dandelion, or at least extremely long lived Jaskier, taking canon and redecorating it because I can and I want to
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:39:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23685538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Milaley/pseuds/Milaley
Summary: Julian Alfred Pankratz's mother isn't human. Not really. This is a secret."no one can know, not even your father," his mother tells him when he is four years old.And he's known this in some way or form.Because normal mothers don't turn into birds and teach their sons to do the same.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 51
Kudos: 435





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I had this in my head for WEEKS now and somehow it decided that it wanted to be written NOW, 4 days before the new semester starts. Inspiration is not fair. Oh well... I hope at least that this will be a fun ride.
> 
> Now a few things before we start: I am not a native speaker, and I am dyslexic. But funnily enough, my English spelling (and reading) is better than my native tongue (don't ask me I don't know why either...) and this has been spell checked to hell and back by word and Grammarly. So it should be fine. Hopefully
> 
> The story should be around 4 chapters, maybe 5 depending on how well the characters behave.
> 
> Also please see chapter endnotes for potential trigger warnings. I'll keep them as non-spoilery as I can

Julian Alfred Pankratz's mother isn't human. Not really. This is a secret.

He learns this when he is 4 years old and asks why his friend the cook’s son can’t hear the stars sing at night the way he does.

"Because you and I are different Julian. And no one can know, not even your father." His mother says while gently rubbing a wet cloth over his dirty cheeks.

After that, he pays more attention to everything his mother does and realizes, that his mother is in fact not normal.

His mother sings for and with him, teaches him her songs. This is normal. What is not normal is that there are some songs he is only allowed to learn by listening to her playing the melody on her lute. These songs, she tells him are forbidden and he is only allowed to sing them when there is no other way.

His mother dances barefoot with him in the grass when his father is away. This is strange but almost normal. The fact that her music makes the flowers grow and is just in tune with the song the earth is singing is not.

His mother takes him bird watching. This is normal.

Her turning into a bird with soft brown plumage and taking to the sky is not. Neither is her teaching him how to do the same.

When Julian is 6 his mother teaches him how to read and write music as well as how to read and write words. She teaches him how to weave power into melody, to make the world obey your harmony, how to write your very own melody and make it mean something.

"Listen and hide it," she tells him "everyone and everything has their own song. Sing it and they will obey" she says. Normal mothers don’t teach their children something like that. But Julian doesn’t care, his mother loves him and that is the important thing.

When Julian is 10 his mother and father have a huge fight. So huge that he hides in his room and under his bed while they shout in the sitting room downstairs, scared so scared of what this means.

They argue for almost 2 whole days and Julian only leaves the room and the hiding spot under his bed when absolutely necessary.

And then on the night after the fighting stops, his mother comes into his room while the moon is high in the sky and he is already in bed.

“I have to leave,” she says sitting down on the edge of his bed.

“when will you be back?” Julian asks because he is used to people leaving all the time and coming back a few months later, his father does so all the time, but his mother’s already sad smile turns even sadder.

“oh, my dear boy, I am so sorry but you and I are birds of passage and while your father managed to bind me to this place for quite some time, he couldn’t do so forever. I am sorry my sweet songbird,” she says carding her fingers over his face as if to memorize it, “I can’t take you with me, but I will always keep watch over you as long as you keep our little secrets ok?” she presses a kiss to his forehead and Julian thinks he might hear a sob as she whispers a “please don’t hate me. One day we’ll meet again, I promise,” into his hair before rising from his bedside and - with a rustling of feathers - turning into a bird and flying out of the open window in his room into the night.

There is a pull between his shoulder blades telling him to follow her. He doesn’t.

His Father is not a patient or kind man, Julian knew this already. He learns it in new ways now that his mother is gone. 

One month after his mother left his father’s patience seems to run out and he sends him away to boarding school. Julian loves learning, he really does but the teachers are mean and they hit him for humming during class and humming during his meals and humming during study time and for making any sound in general without being explicitly asked to do so. He hates the borarding school. But it is better than being back home with his father so he adapts and hides.

He hides and sings no matter what the teaches do, because how can he not when it is the only thing that ties his mother and him together. The only thing that gives his aching heart so far away from home and warmth and comfort any relive. Also some part of him feels that he would die or something should he ever stop singing.

When Julian is 17 and has just finished his schooling, he finds his mother's leather-bound and secret journal full of notes and music, in a hidden compartment inside the desk in her old music room. He devours it, hungry for information about his mother and himself. He doesn’t really learn anything new except to hate his father even more. He leaves the next day for Oxenfurt and swears never to return.

In Oxenfurt he casts aside the names his father gave him and takes on the name of his mother’s favorite flower.

Jaskier isn’t human. He has always known this since normal humans don’t hear the earth and sky sing songs, normal humans can’t hear the individual songs interwoven with every person’s heartbeat, normal humans can’t turn into a skylark and take flight.

But he only fully realizes that when he is 28, a professor at Oxenfurt and looking into a mirror only to realize that he hasn’t aged in the past 8 years. All his friends and colleagues have begun to age, have fine lines on their foreheads and around their eyes but there are no lines on his face and his skin is still taught in a way It should definitely not be, no matter what beauty regiment one uses. There are no first grey hairs on his head.

But somehow it is his unchanged reflection in the mirror that makes him realize for the first time what all of that really means! It doesn’t change the fact that Jaskier has absolutely no idea what exactly he is, but he is non-human. And somehow this brings back into him mind the words his mother said to him all those years ago in the dead of night before taking flight and never returning “we are birds of passage”.

Jaskier closes his eyes and wonders what that means. If this is the reason why there is always this pull inside him to just up and leave right between his shoulder blades. He needs answers, he needs them like air! His mother once said that she would one day find him again, maybe he should find her and demand some answers.

He hands in his resignation the next day and leaves.

Jaskier travels, little has ever felt this right.

Jaskier is 29 when he sings in a tavern in Posada for money or food. He gets the latter and while stuffing stale rolls of bread into his pockets, spots a tall and maybe imposing figure brooding in the corner. Jaskier feels a pull between his shoulder blades and follows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for child abandonment (Jaskiers mother leaves) and mentioned child abuse.


	2. A hidden Bird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, here’s the thing. When Jaskier first walked over to a broody Geralt sitting in his corner in Posada, he never, not in a million years, imagined to find himself here, 4 years later and still following the Witcher – except for breaks for winter and a few bardic competitions during the year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry that took so long! Semester hit me like a ton of bricks and thus work on things other than classwork has been slow.  
> Geralt here is kind of a mash of the Netflix Geralt and the Geralt in the games. or at least of what I remember of the games. That means he is softer and definitely less of an ass towards Jaskier.  
> He is - of course - still an emotionally compromised mess.  
> And Jaskier is - of course - a pansexual disaster with ADHD.  
> And the two of them are naughty and messing with my original storyline which is why there are now 5 chapters. Hopefully, it will stay like that. though it probably won't

So, here’s the thing. When Jaskier first walked over to a broody Geralt sitting in his corner in Posada, he never, not in a million years, imagined to find himself here, 4 years later and still following the Witcher – except for breaks for winter and a few bardic competitions during the year.

Now what he thought would happen was that he would probably get some kind of review from the man, maybe get told a story or two begging to be made into a song and someone to share a meal with, and if he got really lucky and played all his cards right he might spend a night between the sheets with a man exactly his type.

Instead, he got a broody travel companion who talks little, grunts more and is best friends with his horse.

And Jaskier LOVES it. He can’t help it. Travelling with this – incredibly handsome and grouchy – Witcher is amazing, being Geralt’s friend is magnificent, getting to know that sad, lonely and flawed jet so incredibly gentle and kind man and picking at his hard shell like a Bird hacking away at stone to get to the nectar underneath is something Jaskier sees himself never tiering off. And if that isn’t that at least a tiny bit terrifying. Because Jaskier knows, has known since he followed him out of that valley, a new elven made lute over his shoulder, that he would move mountains and raze cities to the ground for that man!

~~Even more terrifying is the thought that he might be able to do exactly that with the right song.~~

Terrifying and exhilarating, Jaskier thinks as he waits for Geralt to return to their small camp from slaying a kikimora.

To someone looking from the outside and not bothering to look, to really look, Geralt seems cold, maybe calculating, mostly emotionless and fucking terrifying. But once you bother to look past the – to be fair incredibly well constructed – facade, Gerald is gentle and soft and sad and lonely. Which wakes in Jaskier the incredibly foolish instinct to grab this mountain of a man and cuddle him close to keep him SAFE and warm in his embrace.

And that’s not even including his [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6uWWQnEsNzc).

In hindsight, it might have been Geralt’s song next to the pull between his shoulder blades – and his incredible and simply unfair attractiveness – that made him walk over and ask for a review back in Posada. A slow, sad ballad, a man’s voice singing accompanied by strings, the feeling of longing, of inexplicable loneliness before being joined by a woman. Together they sing, almost a wail and then the music briefly picks up, turning into a tune fit for fighting or dancing. It ends with the man singing alone with only the last echoes of the strings as his companion.

Jaskier could listen to it for hours on repeat, lose himself completely in Geralt’s melody. And sometimes he does. Sometimes on the road or while sitting around their campfire in the dark or in a shared room in an inn, Jaskier will close his eyes and just… listen. He will bask in the music that is Geralt. In this tune of longing and heartbreak and destiny.

Jaskier knows that would he ever perform the White Wolfs song, it would rally the masses and be his most popular tune, but his mother taught him better. One does not sing another’s song unless one wants to control or manipulate them and even then, only parts are sung, interwoven with a different melody. To sing another person’s song is a taboo Jaskier will refuse to break. Even when he longs to sing this beautiful wailing tune.

Which leads him to the very reason why he is currently sitting here and contemplating the past four years.

Earlier in the evening, Geralt had left the camp to hunt down this day’s monster with the strict instruction that Jaskier shall not move away from the light of their fire more than absolutely necessary in order to keep him safe.

And hearing him say that, reminded Jaskier of how Geralt after three years of friendship still does not know of his companion’s talents.

Geralt has no clue that Jaskier can command nature by singing the right tune, is oblivious to the fact that his seemingly completely normal and human companion can turn into a songbird at will and is anything but human. Well… maybe one half of Jaskier is human thanks to his Father but the other half is certainly not.

The thing is even now with Geralt struggling to admit that they are friends they share a lot of things. They share money while on the path, pool their coin because it simply makes more sense, share chores while around the camp hell they sometimes even share a bedroll or bed when money is scarce or the weather cold. And Geralt shares stories now and then, stories of his youth, of monsters he’s slain. And yet… Jaskier can’t bring himself to tell his friend and companion about his heritage.

He wants to. Kind of. He is not sure.

At the start it was simply because he was unsure of Geralt’s reaction, now there is the issue that Jaskier has lied to him for the past 4 years. But if it were only that, he would not hesitate to tell Geralt. Their friendship would survive and probably come out stronger on the other end.

It’s something else that is stopping him. An old pain, a wound never quite healed and only superficially scabbed over. “I will always keep watch over you as long as you keep our little secrets” his mother had said just before vanishing from his life.

If he tells this secret, the secret that they share will he lose the last thing connecting him to her? Will he lose her promise to watch over him? Maybe it is childish and pointless to cling to her words but somewhere within him there is still that small and scared Julian longing for his mother to come back and the fear of being completely abandoned by his mother once he opens his mouth to speak of soft brown plumage and songs that hold power is greater than any wish for honesty.

No matter how much he wants to tell Geralt.

A hand on his shoulders rips him from his thoughts and startles him.

“you should be more careful, Bard,” says his Witcher and Jaskier relaxes back into his grip.

“I was thinking” he looks up and cranes his neck to muster Geralt’s face, there is a small gash on his forehead and his eyes are still black, otherwise he seems unharmed, “anything broken or bloody or is the skin on your forehead the only casualty of the night - other than the kikimora of course?”

Geralt huffs in the quiet way he does when he doesn’t want to laugh at Jaskier words, removes his hand from Jaskier shoulder and points with it to said wound on his forehead “that’s the only thing except for a couple of bruises but those should be gone in a couple of hours. The thing got me by the leg and threw me, landed on a rock that was in the way” he grins at him in a way that is more teeth than smile, that together with the still black eyes and ashen face should, in theory, make him look terrifying. Jaskier thinks the sight magnificent.

Geralt moves to the other side of the fire and begins to unbuckle his sword and armour. He groans quiet and muffled as he strains to reach for a buckle on his back to loosen the chest plate. Jaskier sights and stands. So much to “just a couple of bruises”.

Without being prompted or needing further instructions he helps the Witcher rid himself of his armour. The motions are practised, he’s done this for roughly three years now. The first time was after a bad encounter with a noon wraith left Geralt without the use of his left arm for two days. Since then him helping Geralt out of his armour has become as normal as pooling their coin or sharing a bed. Which means normal to them, strange to outsiders.

Once Geralt is clad only in tunic and breeches Jaskier turns to grab his waterskin and bag of medicine.

“sit!” he says not without force and motions to the ground next to the fire, Geralt grunts but follows his order.

He wets a piece of clean cloth dug from his medical bag and moves to clean Geralt’s forehead

Geralt grumbles just as expected “you don’t need to do that Jaskier, by morning it will be gone”

“yes, I know that darling,” he says, tongue between this his teeth in concentration “but there is dirt in it and if I leave it in, it will fester and itch and you will be irritable for days and I will have to suffer under it” Jaskier moves a bit to the side to see in the firelight if he managed to clean the wound of dirt and then pulls a small copper tin of marigold salve out of his bag, drags his finger through the mixture of marigold oil, beeswax and wool fat and gently daps it on the cut.

Geralt makes a discontent noise

“shush you, I’m almost done fussing and then you can brood in peace”

He finished his administrations, pats Geralt gently if slightly mockingly on the head and pushes down the urge to putt a gentle kiss on his forehead because what the hell where came that from.

“so, all done,” he says cheerfully, walks back over to the other side of the camp to plop down on his own bedroll and grab his lute for some mindless composing. Geralt’s eyes follow him the whole way.

They don’t leave him. The sudden intimacy of it makes Jaskier squirm

The night is warm, they won’t need to share a bedroll.

Somehow that makes Jaskier sad.

Geralt wakes him the next morning with a boot nudging his side.

“need to go” his companion says and turns to further pack the camp.

Jaskier groans and simply stares at the sky, piercing through the canopy of trees, just taking in the music of a waking world and the sound of Geralt before sitting up and gathering his things. He hands his pack Geralt once done so he can secure it on roaches back in a way that makes sure it doesn’t get covered in kikimora sludge. The slain monster is already laid over the horses back as proof for the alderman that they didn’t just simply go camping in the wood for a night without taking care of the town's problem.

“I really hope you know,” says Jaskier once they are on the road back “that that man pays you the agreed amount. He had this look about him” he makes a big flourishing gesture “man with that look don’t pay their Witcher”

Geralt walking next to him only sighs “you are not going to punch him”

Jaskier turns to him, walking sideways for a moment and grins “well I never _plan_ to punch someone, and if I do it is simply because of poor impulse control and punchable faces”

He doesn’t punch the Alderman. Mostly because Geralt’s arm moves to subtly hold him back by gripping the back of Jaskier doublet when he goes for it since that bitch of an alderman decided that since the beast was apparently smaller than he had expected, it was perfectly all right for him to pay Geralt only three-fourths of the agreed price.

“If you punch every person that cheats me out of money Jaskier then we’ll soon run out of places to stay.” Geralt says as they leave the town. Good riddance Jaskier thinks, lying and stealing bitches deserve neither his nor his Witcher’s time thank you very much!

“maybe if people didn’t treat you unfairly then I would not have the urge to punch them. Really you see Geralt, it is their fault!” he runs a few steps to place himself in front of roach and walks backwards so he can better see Geralt’s reaction “if everyone were just that bit more kind then I wouldn’t need to punch anyone! And anyway need I to remind you that the reason we were camping last night and not sleeping in a nice warm bed with you taking care of that kikimora once it was light outside and not in the twilight that we call dusk, was because we were almost _out_ of money?”

“hmm” hums Geralt.

“and now,” he adds with a flourish of hands “coin might not be AS tight anymore but we really could have used that extra bit of very well deserved coin!” he huffs a breath and turns back around to walk forwards again.

He doesn’t expect Geralt to answer, he never does at least not beyond a few grunts and hums. So, whenever he does it always comes as a pleasant surprise

“you just have to sing a bit louder in the next town to make up for it”

Suddenly Jaskier is glad that he is walking forward and Geralt is thus unable to see the silly grin spreading on his face. But then again, the subtle tonal shift in Geralt’s melody tells him that the bastard can probably smell how pleased he is or something. That was almost a compliment.

The next village over is a day’s walk away which means it begins to get dark once they get there, thankfully the village does have an inn with appreciating guests to fill their pocket with coin and a room with a rickety but clean bed for Jaskier and Geralt to sleep in. They share it. Maybe because it was cheaper to get only one, Jaskier knows that Geralt is trying to save up money to replace some of his armour that has gotten old. Maybe they share it because the room has no fireplace and the late spring air still gets cold at night sometimes.

But something in him tells him that the way Geralt’s arm wraps around his waist to pull him close is also a search for comfort and closeness. A human connection he seeks. Something he would never allow himself during the light of day.

And it’s not like Jaskier has anything against it. He likes being held by Geralt. The thing is that maybe he likes it a bit _too_ much, basks in it in a more than friendly way. But what the hell, if Geralt initiates it and is ok with Jaskier cuddling close and burying his face in the Witcher’s neck, he sees no reason for them to stop.

He wakes up well-rested and warm, Geralt does as well going after the absence of the more pained and grumblier grunts. They both wash and put on their clothes for the day and head down to break their fast after gathering their things in silence and putting them in their packs. Jaskier skips ahead, letting Geralt prepare Roach while he orders breakfast.

The Innkeeper, a sturdy woman of maybe 50 years looks him up and down when Jaskier orders two helpings of porridge and weak, watered-down ale and after a few moments says, “you’re here with that Witcher, right?”

Jaskier’s easy smile freezes for a second, he knows very well by now that this question can lead to two very different outcomes “I am my lady, anything we can assist you with?”

She seems to think for a second before answering “not me but the collier half a mile west down the road and in the woods might, tale is that his apprentice was taken by a griffin a month ago.”

Good, so the better reason for her to ask. He grins “thank you, my dear lady, I’ll tell my friend and we’ll see where we can help”

He sits down with the two bowls of watery porridge and two cups of weak ale to wait for his friend. A single griffin might be a challenge but not too much for Geralt to handle and the money earned will help him in his quest to replace his shoulder guard.

Geralt walks back in, spots him, and takes the seat opposed to him. He reaches over and pulls his bowl of food to him, takes a spoonful and squints at Jaskier suspiciously “what.”

Jaskier, vibrating with excitement, leans forward, resting his chin on both his hands and smiles at Geralt

“so, I’ve heard that there might be a griffin for you to slay”

Maybe he'll get lucky and manage to turn into his bird form unnoticed to get an aerial view of the fight. Geralt doesn't need to know. Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll update as soon as I can, but I am moving at the end of the week and I have 2 presentations coming up plus a ton of homework sooo it might take a week or two. sorry.
> 
> Fun fact: the marigold salve is a real recipe my mom allways uses to make it. The ingredients are marigold extract (made with grain alcohol), marigold oil made by steeping marigolds in neutral oil for a few weeks, pure beeswax and wool fat. It helps with rashes, dry skin, small cuts and scarring. 
> 
> Trigger warning for mentioned child abandonment.


	3. Take flight little bird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Geralt get's to hold the brain cell and use it too.
> 
> And a lark get's too close to a griffin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am really sorry that this took so long. Uni was (and is) really stressful and then my cardiac arrhythmia was acting up for a few weeks and after that, I got a really really bad migraine for like a week but I am back now and procrastinating studying for my Swedish final and the Scandinavian literature final I have in the next two weeks by finally finishing this fucking chapter!
> 
> I would like to say that I learned my lesson to NEVER writer from Geralt's perspective again, but that would be a lie.
> 
> anyways. As always, possible triggers can be found in the endnotes.  
> have fun :)

Jaskier is practically vibrating with excitement as he walks next to roach as they leave to head towards the collier. Jaskier exited in itself is nothing to be worried about, Jaskier exited and not singing however tells Geralt that the bard is up to something, something that will probably bite both of them in the ass. Fuck.

Jaskier isn’t stupid but he has no instinct for self-preservation which sometimes makes Geralt despair.

He groans internally and sends a quick prayer to a God he doesn't believe in, that whatever stupid plan Geralt will undoutly be unable to convince Jaskier to let go off, won't get them killed

About a mile down the road a sign in the shape of an arrow points off the main path down a slightly narrower and bit grassier path. The sign simply reads "coal". Jaskier looks up at him and shrugs "must be here"

"Hmm" Geralt hums

These are the first words Jaskier has spoken since they left the village. Oh, he is so going to regret whatever will happen. He raises a hand to rub his forehead "you are planning something; whatever it involves I hope you plan to stay well away from the fight. Griffin's are no joke Jaskier"

“I don’t know what you mean, I plan to stay perfectly out of sight of that beast,” the bards say innocently. Too innocently. Geralt narrows his eyes because technically he is not able to sense any lies, but he KNOWS Jaskier. So, he lets it go, fully aware that he is, in the end, unable to convince him to not do what he is planning. He can only hope that what Jaskier just said is really true.

The collier is a man in his thirties with worn, soot-blackened hands and a weathered face. He takes off the dirty cloth he wears as a head-covering and scratches at his hairline.

“Molly was right in sending you to me.” He says and puts the cloth back on his head “I do have a problem with that griffin, has been in the area for years but never made any trouble but now it’s killed Finn my apprentice and my wife” he nods back towards his hut “is pregnant with our third child. Can’t have a toddler running around with a griffin looking for his next meal” he scratches his nose leaving behind dirty and sooty skin.

Geralt sighs internally, if what the man says is true then these people have been more than reckless, living near a griffin for years is simply stupid. But that is a thought he will strictly keep to himself or at least only tell Jaskier of, instead he says: “are you sure it’s a griffin, do you know why it has moved closer?”

The collier shrugs “everyone says it’s one and I don’t know you’re the monster hunter not me. I can pay you well though” he scratches his nose again, Geralt really wants to tell him to wash his damn hands. While it is true that while on the road and between inns Geralt isn’t able to keep as clean as he wants to, the lessons of cleanliness his teachers had instilled in him makes him wince when he has to observe a man rubbing sod on his face. At least Geralt wipes his hands clean of ichor and guts before scratching his nose.

But the man is talking about payment and Geralt forces himself to ignore the even sootier face and hum sceptically in answer.

“hmmm”

“I can!” the man adds “900 coins! It’s the amount my apprentice would have gotten next month as payment for his finished apprenticeship. It’s probably too much but he won’t need it anymore and I just want my children safe. I want the monsters head as proof though.”

Geralt sneaks a glance at Jaskier and their eyes meet for a moment. The message is clear. That is a lot of money, more than both of them expected and more than enough for Geralt to be able to finally get his armour fixed.

“I’ll do it.” Geralt says “and I’ll bring you the head”

He should have known; he really should have fucking known but then again how when everyone just spoke of THE griffin. The one griffin that somehow wandered closer. Probably because of the scarcity of food in one area Geralt had figured. Fuck that he will never assume the simple answer again. Because, Geralt thinks as he is thrown against a tree, of course, it’s a mated pair. Two fucking griffins. Which explains the shifted territory so easily! Fucking shit on a stick, at least Jaskier is save with roach, or at the very least Geralt is unable to sense the bard right now which means that he is either a safe distance away or hiding well enough. He really hopes though that it’s the first option.

The thing is, he has managed to kill the first griffin but that only has enraged his mate and right now, Geralt is less fighting to kill that damn beast and more for survival.

And then the griffin swoops down at him and before Geralt can cast Aard it knocks his sword out of his hand and pins him to the ground. Claws dig into his right arm and he fights with his left arm to keep the griffin from picking his face with its beak.

And then there is the shriek of a songbird and out of the corner of his eye he sees a small brown bird swoop down at the griffin only to be hit by the sweep of a much larger wing and thrown through the air. The thud when it hits the ground is louder then it should be and seems to be confusing the Griffin enough for Geralt to be able to get his arm free and wriggle out of its grip and get on his feet only for him to see…

Jaskier…

On the other side of the clearing, barely standing and holding his upper left arm tight to his side with his right hand as if injured, there is blood at his hairline.

And Jaskier opens his [mouth](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jv3oUUH3eiQ).

Years ago, maybe even a decade ago Geralt stumbled upon the word “symphony” the explanation what had been given to him was that it was multiple instruments playing a song together in perfect harmony. Or at least that was what Geralt had understood form what the rambling professor who was supposed to pay him for getting rid of a drowner infestation in the sewers and instead was now telling him about what an audacity it was that Geralt had never gotten to enjoy the apparent musical firework that was an orchestra. Geralt had tuned out of the conversation until the man had handed him his money and then hightailed it out of Oxenfurt without accepting the professor's offer of staying for the concert tomorrow.

What comes out of Jaskier’s mouth is not a simple song. It is not even a simple voice. There are multiple voices both Jaskier’s and multiple female voices accompanied by the sound of drums he can’t see. It’s a harsh, energetic sound and as the first note echoes against the trees the wind picks up. And with every note, Jaskier sings the wind gets stronger all the while blood drips down Jaskier’s face and his eyes are locked with the griffin’s which seems to contemplate his next action.

And all Geralt can do is stare.

Stare as the wind gets even stronger in a blink of an eye, stare as with an almost pitiful screak the Griffin gets picked up by bands of strong wind and first thrown against a tree and then against the ground. The sound of bones snapping is clearly audible.

And then Jaskier stops singing and the wind stops with him. His eyes meet Geralt’s.

And Jaskier, like a puppet whose strings have been cut, collapses in an unconscious heap.

Geralt has had a long-standing theory (Well actually it originally was Eskel’s theory back when they were barely on the path, but Geralt liked it so he adopted it). A theory that for every and actively dangerous species monster out there, there is also a species that just wants to live in peace, either away from humans or among them jet unnoticed. That Monsters aren’t the only thing that crossed in the merging of the spheres, that many peaceful creatures roam the lands and just know how to hide either themselves or their otherness from the humans.

It might be a foolish thought, but sometimes on really hard days, he comes back to it in the hope that it will give him some solace.

He thinks of it now, hands fluttering over his unconscious and despite his believe clearly not completely human bard. Thinks of it while examining him for injuries.

Jaskier’s left shoulder is dislocated.

_That bird…_

His left hand, he can hear the bones shift and grind as he carefully moves it with his much larger hands – broken.

_…was he…_

His ribs seem to be uninjured though his abdomen will be bruised

_…a **bird** was thrown to the ground…_

He holds Jaskier’s head, cradles it in his palms, there is a laceration on the left side of Jaskier’s head, it’s not deep but it’s large and dirty

_…and **Jaskier** got up._

Jaskier was the bird. No, Jaskier is the bird. A human that can turn into a bird or a bird that can turn into a human or something else entirely, something Geralt has never heard of and… arg he can’t that is just too much. Better not to think. Later, later he can think of it. now he has to…

Geralt takes Jaskier’s arm and shoulder in hand. Better to set it now that the bard is still unconscious.

He carries Jaskier in his arms away from the battleground until he finds a suitable place to make camp for the night maybe 300 meters away. He carefully lays him down, makes sure his airways are clear and then goes to fetch roach from where he had left her. He could go back to the collier and demand his pay but not now. He wants to know what happened before doing that. And he wants Jaskier to wake up.

Wake up and tell him what the fuck just happened. And maybe also wake up just so that Geralt can be sure that he is ok.

He finds roach – and their packs – just where he left her, grazing on some grass, reigns loosely wrapped around some low hanging branches. She looks up at him, pushing her muzzle into his chest briefly as if to say hello, he briefly pets her mane.

“come on, we need to get back to Jaskier.” He murmurs “don’t want to leave him alone for too long”

There is a woman dressed in white, light flowy robes kneeling next to Jaskier when he gets back to their makeshift camp. She is petting him, gently carding long and elegant fingers through his hair. Hair, that is the same colour as hers. She seems human at a first glance but once Geralt looks closer he notices the slightly too perfect features and the barely visible slight glow of her skin. Geralt draws his sword – the silver one just to be safe – as he approaches and walks as silent as he can. Or at least as silent as one can with a horse following them.

“I do not intend to harm him. Or you for that matter Witcher” she says without looking up “so you can sheath your sword”

Geralt narrows his eyes. A strange woman in their camp, too close to a defenceless Jaskier. He decidedly does not sheath his sword. “who are you” he says instead, still approaching.

She doesn’t answer, still petting Jaskier’s hair

“I won’t stay long. I only wanted to say goodbye”

She leans down, lowering her head towards Jaskier’s head and oh no! Geralt has no idea who or what she is but she is not getting her mouth anywhere near Jaskier’s face or head or neck! He raises his sword to strike “don’t move!”

She stops mid-motion and for the first time, lifts her gaze towards him.

Her eyes.

Her eyes are blue, deep sky blue, ocean blue.

Blue in a shade Geralt has only ever seen once.

They are Jaskier blue.

Or maybe it’s the other way around.

It startles him, somehow shakes him to his core and the hand and arm holding his sword go lax leaving him only with the ability left to stare.

And then, still looking at him, she continues to lean down to place a gentle kiss onto Jaskier’s brow. She stands and Geralt realizes that she looks sad.

“protect him, Witcher. I can’t anymore.” The not humanness is now barely obvious, her eyes bright, her voice clear almost bird-like.

“I will” Geralt promises because he can’t _not_ answer. Because he would do so anyway.

She smiles, eyes sad.

“good”

And then she turns into a small brown bird and with a flutter of wings, disappears.

Geralt drops his sword, almost runs over to Jaskier and drops to his knees next to the bard. The blood on his face is gone.

Just as Geralt is about to reach out to.. touch? maybe? he isn't sure himself what or why, Jaskier gasps quietly and opens his eyes.

"Mother?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning:  
> canon typical violence, main character gets hurt
> 
> The Next chapter will (hopefully) go up sometime in August. after finals. unless I procrastinate again.
> 
> To be honest, don't really like how this turned out, but I can not for the life of me, make it better right now. I am tired and done and maybe one day I will find a way to make it better but today is not that day I really just wanted to finally post it. I hope it wasn't too much of a dumpster fire. I promise the next one will be better. Probably because there isn't a messy fight scene in it.  
> Also, this chapter was originally a bit longer but the rest didn't really work from Geralt's perspective and this also was a really good place for a chapter break so I just followed the characters will. which means my original plan for 4 chapters has been derailed. AGAIN! 
> 
> Anyway, see you in a month :)
> 
> EDIT: this fic is not dead its just that 2020 is an asshole. My grandma who I am very close with had a bad stroke two days ago and since she lives alone she was only discovered yesterday lying dehydrated in her living room. She is currently in hospital and might never recover and that... I can't write right now. Sorry. Update will come sometime september

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it so far, comments are always appreciated!


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